Hey, Look It's a Story
by loo-li lai-lay
Summary: Ivan speaks. He is alone. For centuries he has lived as a prince in the dark cover of night and the flourish of strange and heart pounding series of events. He has never spoken a word about his past to anyone, not even to the ones that he has turned with the dark gift. That is until he comes across an open laptop. (Various pairings)
1. Prologue

**HEY, LOOK. IT'S A STORY.**

**Rating: **T

**Pairing: **None at the moment

**Summary: **Introducing our lovely main character, Ivan Braginsky and some vague accounts about his immortal life before he sits down for the first time in front of a computer. Francis, you're too nosy.

**WHAT IS THIS? IT'S A COMPUTER, IVAN. - PROLOGUE **

Ivan sometimes found it a wonder that this was all real. Sometimes he wondered how he could have once been one of them. They were jubilant and their love for that strange, disjointed, and gasping music of these modern times gave him a a quiet expression to which he donned often when he was thinking. Alfred thought it a hoot to startle him out his thoughts. He thought it silly that an immortal such as himself would scare so easily. He teased and he laughed until he became bored and wandered away off to do whatever it was that he liked to do. That boy was more trouble than he was worth, but Ivan could still not hate him or dislike him. After all, he did make him and turned him into one of his own. Just as he did to others, but Ivan wasn't willing to give his blood so easily. When he was younger he was foolish and often times frightened to the point he couldn't speak of he would babble. Francis would call it one of his more human points, but that did nothing for Ivan since he wasn't human and he would never return to be so.

Francis Bonnefoy was well - his mortal friend.

The only mortal allowed himself to have as company that knew his secret spare the a handful of others. Alfred was still as reckless as ever which had eventually led Ivan and Francis to meet. Ivan was long convinced decades ago that Alfred may be a bit insane and he always has been after the death of his twin brother. He had never lost his hold on those memories and even before Mathew had died, Alfred was already showing signs of madness. After long years spent together roaming among humans with occasional companions, Alfred and Ivan separated when Ivan left Alfred with an old one to calm his heart and gather what sanity he had left. Ivan was afraid that he would turn out to be like to be like his sisters.

But, as not to stray from Francis, Ivan had many pleasant conversations with the mortal man. His smile was a comfort to him and his kindness knew no bounds as far as Ivan had seen, but that curiosity of his. Oh, it was just insatiable. Francis often liked to drag Ivan off to art galleries where they stood discussing about these artworks and if Ivan had ever met any old and famous artists. Francis loved prodding him for details of his past. He liked hearing Ivan recount events from the past, but Ivan was always so vague about them that Francis liked to prod even more. Ivan was as unmoving as a mountain on the subject. He wouldn't discuss about how he became immortal - this nonliving creature he is now. Nor did he ever mention anything about his human life before immortality and the dark gift.

Once though, Ivan had let a stray thought slip from him while they were on the subject of Russia's history which brought Francis to be unbearably curious.

"It reminds me of Peter the Great," Ivan said. "He was a strange man."

"What was that?" Francis asked, peering at him closely, wondering if he would continue perhaps, or to try to press his luck. Ivan decided to humor him. "He liked to travel and do things a tsar would mostly not do. Shipbuilding and dentistry. He spent a while in the low countries." This was all old news. As seen in textbooks and an average student's AP Euro lectures. Francis pressed on, eyes flickering up at Ivan to see his expression as he busied himself by spreading jam on a biscuit. Ivan kept his gaze to the morning paper spread before him on his side of the table. They were having breakfast - or - Francis was just having breakfast. Ivan did not need to dine on such foods. "Did you know him?"

"Yes." Ivan knew Francis was smiling before he even knew it. He couldn't help the quiet smile he hid from the Frenchman behind the paper. "What was he like?" Francis asked, taking a bite of the warm biscuit. Ivan set the paper down. Francis smelled like the sweet pastries he baked in the mornings and afternoons at his bakery. It smelled delicious, but Ivan wasn't thinking about the pastries anymore. He caught Francis' eyes with his and trailed his eyes down his lips and lingered at his neck before looking away with a lazy yawn. Francis has followed his eyes.

"He was strange." Ivan replied firmly and stood up. He left the room with Francis flushed pink with some slight embarrassment. Ivan wouldn't feed from him. Now, after several weeks later, Francis closed his bakery for the week and packed his belongings. He told Ivan he was leaving on a business trip and wouldn't be back until Monday. Today was Thursday. This was the first time in a these peaceful several months that Ivan was to be left alone on his own. Though he might have felt some slight loneliness at the thought he still smiled and bid the blonde man farewell at the door before closing it shut and locking it.

Alfred wasn't there. Then again, he wasn't usually there anyway anymore. He was being reckless and ruthless again Ivan suspected, but sighed at the thought of having to clean after the man's messes. Ivan climbed the stairs to the second floor. The wooden floorboards beneath his bare feet was cold and he sought out warmth in Francis' room. The room had a pleasant view of the street from its balcony that Ivan loved gazing out of so much at dawn and dusk. Beneath its windows, there the narrow streets of Spanish town houses could be seen stretching far into the rest of the city. He quickly lit the fireplace and stood back to admire the glowing flames that flickered and danced. The brought spots to swarm in the eyes and he turned away. It was to bright for him to stare into for too long.

_Beep_.

Ivan blinked. At first Ivan didn't know what he was staring at until he realized it was a laptop. A silly thing Francis must have left on before he left. Ivan in truth wasn't very good with electronics, but he knew enough to work them and play around with them to get how they worked. Stepping cautiously toward the creature, Ivan peered at it doubtfully, his eyes squinted. He took a seat in the chair of the desk and jiggled the wireless mouse. Light appeared back on the screen and Francis' desktop was staring at him. He frowned. His background was a very clear, and high quality picture of Francis' giant white cat. She seemed to be posing as well as glaring at Ivan. Shaking his head he moved the mouse, the action clearly a bit foreign to him but not unpleasant.

It was about nine now and the stars were out in the dark night. Ivan would have been stargazing but instead he sat the laptop, staring into the white screen. With a word document up, Ivan felt his hands slide across the keys. He began to write his story.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Truth be told, I only had wanted to write something silly and light, but I ended up with this. I found a writing prompt I liked and since I was in a bit of a writer's block, I thought to try it out like this. The prompt was to switch characters from a story you like to another story and write about it.

So I decided, well, why not The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. This is purely for fun and my own entertainment, but I hope you guys will like it. Though I switched up the characters, I'm changing the plot line and the story to differ from the Vampire Chronicles though there might be some great changes since I don't want my story to be following the Vampire Chronicles every step of the way. I plan on making the story quite long with many adventures.

If you like it, then I'm glad.

-Scottie


	2. The Beginning

**HEY, LOOK. IT'S A STORY.**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** It is the reign of Peter the Great. Ivan is the son of a Russian noble. They live in a private manor on the outskirts of a small village. Ivan goes hunting today in this chapter.

**A SCARF FOR THE HUNTER - CHAPTER 1**

English wasn't his first language. He learned French quickly beside Russian. Ivan hadn't a need for anymore than those two languages until he was turned in that dreadful winter. Memory was always a fickle thing to Ivan, but ever since becoming this being he is now, his memory was sharp and vivid that he could pluck at each individual strand. Though, in return for this, his human memories became dim. They were fragile films that vibrated in the air like a lingering note from a Stradivarius. They stood at the edges of a room in his mind, hanging like fog and hovering like poison gas.

It began sometime in the winter of 1715. Peter the Great was tsar of Russia, Louis XIV of France had died on the first day of September, George I was king of Great Britain and was facing problems with the Jacobite Risings. People could be hanged for stealing a loaf of bread or burned for heresy. The folding umbrella debuted in Paris back in May and just a few days before, Prussia had declared war on Sweden. Austria was in possession of Italian Milan and Naples as well as former Spanish Netherlands and regulated trade between them.

But Ivan knew nothing of this. He knew nothing of the world outside the gates of his manor and the farms of his village. People of society wore wigs and men carried swords. Ladies wore corsets and men wore breeches coats with large pockets. High heeled shoes that clicked and stockings that rose high. Russia was a society largely of landlords and serfs. Peter the Great had ordered nobles to take to western practices, etiquette, and style. Nobles were not allowed beards or to wear traditional Russian dress, but western fashion like the German way of dressing. Outside St. Petersburg, nobles further away often didn't adapt to the new changes. They kept their beards and traditional dress. Ivan's family were such nobles. His father did not shave his kinky beard nor donned tight and uncomfortable clothes. He scoffed and scorned the tsar, but his calling was not to be ignored. The tsar would soon command Ivan to his first military service surely.

Ivan wasn't a meek man and he wasn't completely hardy either. No, he was just a young man with short ashen blonde hair and a strong build. He didn't sport a beard, but had broad shoulders and hips. Long arms and trunk compared to his legs. His face was round and his cheeks were full and plump, often flushed pink from the cold just like the shell of his ears. Ivan's skin was pale and easily turned pink and bruise, but his eyes easily absorbed the colors around him. They usually appeared a slight grayish blue and sometimes a lilac color when light shone upon them. By the time he was eighteen Ivan stood six feet tall and now that he was twenty he was another centimeter taller, but with that he knew he wouldn't grow anymore. His birthday would soon come now that it was December and when he turned twenty-one, he'd join in the military service for the tsar as all nobles were urged and required to do. Perhaps he'd be asked to fight against the Swedes, but with growing lenient attitude toward nobles fulfilling military service from the tsar, Ivan could possibly get out of serving. Especially since they lived in the furthest reaches of Russia that was nearest to the Amur region. It would be easy to go unnoticed.

This winter was colder than most, but not the harshest of winters. Ivan had dressed heavily in thick coat and fur. He was hunting. With a musket in his gloved hand and his Kavkazskaya ovcharka by his side, Ivan knew they could take down anything with thoughtful planning and stealthy hunting. Veils of thin snow twisted and danced along the chilly breeze. Fresh fallen snow had laid a blanket on the ground and tracks of animals would easier be tracked. The music of his sisters playing on their piano were far behind him, a distant suggestion. His gloves kept the cold from biting into the soft flesh of his palms and fingers. He groped at a low hanging branch, lifting it up so he and his dog could pass under. Ivan often hunted for food and hardly for game. He didn't disapprove of hunting in the slightest though. Meat was a large part of their diet and it brought flavor to their dishes. He just hunted for food more than pleasure. He thought it a waste is someone just chucked the meat of their catch into the garbage. Ivan saw the fluttering wings of a bird escaping their company in the corner of his eye. His father favored hog meat more than bird meat, but Ivan wouldn't be hunting either today. Boars were vicious creatures when threatened and with their sharp sense and keen eyesight they made a more dangerous foe than a bear.

"Come along, Boris." Ivan urged in his softly low voice. The large creature barked and trotted up ahead, keeping a pace so that Ivan wouldn't fall behind. Ivan smiled. Deer was what they'd be hunting today. They could be clever prey, but Ivan always found them easier to slay than other creatures. Especially with Boris with him. His strong body could endure many conditions and was powerful. The ideal dog to hunt with. His jaws could snap the neck of a wolf in just seconds. Ivan was fond of this canine. He was a loyal companion with wide, bright eyes and a kind heart. He was Ivan's only friend.

The two moved through the wood steadily, soon catching scent of a fresh trail of hoof prints. Boris' tail swished side to side and he pressed his nose to the tracks as Ivan stood gazing deeper into the woods. The air was crisp and he wondered if the snow would pile higher tonight after it had begun its clutch on this part of Russia. Boris led them deeper into the forest. The greenery was almost untouched by the snow because the thick and heavy branches on high gathered the snow to themselves. They wandered close to a small clearing in the trees. The grass was still alive with small piles of snow building in random patches. Ivan crouched low and became silent, commanding Boris to be still.

The spotted head of a doe rose. Feeding with her was a spotted fawn traipsing around without a care for they didn't sense the danger they were in. It ate ate the rare treat with delight. The doe battered her lashes and bowed her head again to find her meal. Ivan lifted his gun, cocking it fully and taking aim. They wouldn't be able to hunt the small one, but the doe would do nicely. Reloading would take about a minute or two so he would have to be accurate with his shot or he may miss his chance. His finger slid down to the trigger and the image of the doe was sharp in his lilac eyes. He had her. Ivan shot. His eyes widened as Boris shot forward to bring their prey down to the hard ground. Ivan took a step back.

Another pair of eyes met his. Glowing yellow and hypnotic. Amusement had lingered in its eyes before they disappeared. Ivan broke into a sprint. The fawn had ran and the doe lay dead on the ground beside Boris who jumped to his feet as Ivan quickly passed him. Ivan couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had washed over him when those eyes found him. He didn't know why he was chasing after it. Such creatures usually kept to themselves and were dangerous to be around. You wouldn't know if you were prey or hunter. Barking followed after Ivan but quickly turned to a deep growl when Ivan finally stopped. His breath caught in his throat. Boris' shoulders lifted and he stood beside Ivan protectively, growling at the creature before them. Black, jagged stripes made a nonexistent pattern across its orange fur. It was then Ivan realized that it would be lucky to survive with all his limbs if he became this creature's prey.

But it paid no mind to the two that had intruded upon its home and hunting grounds. The soft wailing of the fawn rose into the cold air and was quickly silenced by the tiger's fierce teeth. It had ripped into its neck and with the fawn in its mouth the tiger turned toward Ivan and Boris. Its paws were large and its legs looked powerful. Powerful enough to leap upon them in an instant. Ivan felt something thick rise in the air when their eyes met again. The hairs on the back of his arms rose and a shudder of dread passed through him. These eyes weren't the eyes of a beast. They were like human eyes - or the eyes of a demon. Eyes that stared deep into Ivan and brought a feeling of nausea over him. The tiger was the first to break eye contact and turn away. Snow matted its bright coat. Boris was still glowering with hostility by the time it left back into the woods, sparing them from a fate Ivan never thought they would escape. He ordered Boris to stop and they turned back. Hopefully their catch hadn't been stolen by another predator.

* * *

THE HEAT OF THE DEER CARCASS had long diminished by the time they returned to the manor. Dusk had taken its place in the sky and an almost eerie light was cast upon the place. Ivan never once thought his home creepy or even frightening in its large vastness. He only lived there with his parents and sisters. His mother had gone to Moscow to help deliver her sister's child and they didn't know when she would be back. Ivan was sure his parents were exchanging letters.

Ivan entered the house through the kitchen door where the servants worked. He handed the dead deer to the nearest person with sudden exhaustion. That person he handed it to was Annushka, one of the older maids of the manor. She tsked at him and fussed at his appearance. The old woman heaved the deer to two other servants that scurried off to prepare it. The sudden warmth of the blazing kitchen fires did nothing but warm only the shell of him. Ivan was convinced something inside him had changed, but he didn't know what. Perhaps he should be frightened.

"Vanya, what is wrong with you? We'll take care of the cleaning. Now, go clean yourself and join your sisters." Annushka said, leaning up and patting his cheeks with a motherly passion. She tucked a strand of hair in his face away with a sigh. He probably looked tired and flushed from the hunt and he nodded quietly with a small smile. "Yes." he agreed and leaned down to kiss her cheek before drifting out of the kitchen. His skin was burning slightly from the blaze of warmth from the fires he had been close to and now it had begun to cool. Ivan ordered for a warm bath to be prepared for him. Boris stayed behind in the kitchen with Annushka. He often stayed there after their outings together to probably smell the cooking food and beg for scraps before he was properly fed when supper was ready.

After bathing and scrubbing, Ivan slipped on clean clothes that a servant left on his bed. There used to be others helping Ivan clean himself, but ever since he began puberty Ivan ordered them to leave him alone when he bathed. He was a bit bashful of his body and self conscious around strangers now. With a sigh, Ivan slipped out of his room and into the halls. Their home was lavishly decorated, but not excessively. By this time he was sure that his sisters were reading in the library and he headed in its direction. Books were the one thing that you could see run strongly in their family. They liked reading. It wouldn't be surprising if the family were spread throughout the manor with a book in their lap. Their father had paid for good instructors to teach them many subjects. Ivan had taken up the violin a few years ago, but him and his siblings were first taught the piano as their first instrument. It was something to bring a little entertainment to the cold days of winter and the warm days of summer.

It was very quiet in the wide, richly furnished library. The night was till, but a faint sigh, heavy with the fragrance of pine and vanilla lingered among the dusty curtains and musky books. In the lamp-lighted silence Ivan's steps were the only sound that echoed through the room. Small whispers stopped until he revealed his tender face to the two startled girls gathered together on a warm carpet by a small fireplace. They were careful with fire in the library. Years ago before they were born their father had told them there was a fire in the library and they had to rebuild it to only a ghost of its former glory.

A girl seated with blonde curls illuminated by the blaze of the fire caught her breath and let out a sigh. She was the oldest of all of them. She smiled broadly at Ivan. He returned it and joined them on the rug. "Ivan," came her voice soft and fond. "Vanya!" The youngest exclaimed in excitement. She threw her arms around him and he laughed lowly. "Good evening, Katushka," Ivan nodded to his older sister, "good evening, Natalie." he petted his younger sister's head that was pressed against his chest. She released him and kissed his cheek. "Good evening." Natalie replied, pulling back and taking her seat beside Katushka. Ivan leaned forward and kissed Katushka's cheek. She smiled pleasantly. "Did you have a good hunt?" She asked and he nodded quietly. Books lay in messy piles across the carpet, opened to different chapters and pages. It seemed that they were just finishing up.

"Yeah. What about you two? How was your day?" He asked in return. Natalie brightened and replied for the both of them. "Oh, Katushka and I were playing a hard piece together on the piano." She started to babble on, but he listened with a small, casual smile. Before she could finish though, they were interrupted by a boy. He was a servant they had for a few years now. A year after Ivan had received Boris as his. He was a shy boy, but always polite. A mop of thick, brown hair grew from his head and his large eyes shined an almost dull pool of greenish-blue.

"U-Um, dinner is ready." The boy mumbled out. Natalie frowned at him. He began to look nervous under her severe gaze. Ivan laughed softly and Katushka smiled at him. "Thank you, Toris." She nodded and he blushed softly. Natalie's frown deepened. Ivan shook his head at his younger sister's displeasure. She was always picking on the boy, but he suspected that she had a crush on Toris who was a year younger than her. "We'll be there shortly." Ivan said, rising to his feet and stretching. Katushka rose with Natalie grasping the fabric of her dress.

"Toris," Katushka said kindly. "Can you please stack these books onto that desk over there." She pointed to the said desk. "We'll put them back ourselves after dinner." Toris nodded with a shy smile. Ivan noticed that his sister was being kind. She was keeping in mind Toris' inability to read.

"Oh, Vanya." Ivan paused before they left the library. Katushka smiled and pulled out a neatly folded cloth. "A scarf." She elaborated and unfolded it, revealing its long length and warm material. He blinked in surprise and pointed to himself. "For me?" He asked. She smiled widely. "Yes. Natalie helped me with it. She did very well and even picked the color." Natalie turned away with a blush. She hid herself behind their older sister. The color of the scarf caught Ivan's eye and he smiled thankfully. It was lightly tanned and almost white in its color. It reminded Ivan of a light shade of cream that he realized she chose because it would look well with the color and shade of his hair.

"Thank you." Ivan bowed his head, smiling softly. He touched by their gift. Katushka wrapped the scarf around his neck and stood back. Ivan lifted his head. It was perfect and snug around him and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Thank you." He said again, a pleasant warmth growing in his heart.

* * *

X

* * *

**Author's note:** Eeeeee. I actually finished another chapter. I hope it wasn't too bad. If you have something you want to add about 18th century Russian life, I'd love to know. I was trying hard to think about how I was going to proceed with this story. If you were wondering what kind of tiger they saw, it was the Amur tiger, or also known as the Siberian tiger. I didn't know what kind of deer they should hunt so I stuck with just the thought of deer when writing this. The Sika deer was what I was thinking of when I wrote the hunt scene.

I tried to be mysterious. Gosh, I don't know how to write suspense.


End file.
